


Ch.20 Feyre visits the Weaver- Rhysand P.O.V.

by Miss_Grace123



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Character POV, F/M, Fantasy, Forbidden Love, High Lord, Illyrian, Love, Magic, Mates, Mating Bond, Rhys POV, Rhysand POV, Unrequited Love, Weaver - Freeform, fae, feyre - Freeform, sarah j mass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:24:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Grace123/pseuds/Miss_Grace123
Summary: The start of Chapter 20 of A Court of Mist and Fury told through Rhysand's perspective. This is the chapter when Feyre goes to the Weaver's house and Rhysand flirts with her and brings up a possible hook up with Cassian as a means to distract her.





	Ch.20 Feyre visits the Weaver- Rhysand P.O.V.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first EVER fanfiction, as in I haven't even written one just for myself. Last time I wrote something in narrative form was in school 6 years ago so please be gentle. I am literally just getting back into the flow of it and if you think its terrible please keep it to yourself and don't read. Basically I wanted the entire Court of Thorns and Roses rewritten in Rhysands perspective and I have exhausted all fanfiction here so I decided to write some myself. Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy it and that I do Sarah's character's justice.

“Where are we?”, Feyres voice came out as barely a whisper, as if too much noise would wake the monsters of the forest. It wasn’t far off the truth, I thought as I surveyed the area. It didn’t matter how quiet we were, we were about to wake their queen.  
With that thought I adjusted my hands so they hovered within reach of my weapons and sent out a small essence of my power to ensure we didn’t run into the wrong monster in the meantime.  
“In the heart of Prythian there is a large, empty territory that divides the North and South. At the centre of it is our sacred mountain,” I answered her.  
I zoned in on every step Feyre took as I told her about this particular area. She stumbled slightly but righted herself. My instinct was to reach out and steady her but I wasn’t entirely sure how that would be received.  
Her focus returned to her footing as I continued, “This forest is on the eastern edge of that neutral territory. Here, there is no High Lord. Here, the law is made by who is strongest, meanest, most cunning. And the Weaver of the Wood is at the top of their food chain.”  
I waited to hear Feyres response, wondering would she back out now. Instead that wonderful curiosity of hers shone through, always questioning. “ Amarantha didn’t wipe them out?”  
My body warmed with pride at her question. We really were equal, I too had thought of this. My mind shifted back to a room, underground and under her. Looking up into her face as she reached Ecstasy again for another night. My back pressed against the sheets, her nails digging into my shoulders, my chest as she rode atop me. Her thighs pressing against my hips, trapping me. I waited until she finished and rested her head on my chest to suggest yet again what a powerful alliance the creatures of the wood would make for her cause. “ Amarantha was no fool,” I tried to pull myself from the memory and focus on the woman beside me, “ She did not touch these creatures, or disturb the wood. For years, I tried to find ways to manipulate her to make that foolish mistake, but she never bought it.”  
It would have been such a simple solution, would have cut short my need to service. But it wasn’t meant to be. I’m out, she’s dead, I reminded myself.  
Feyre brought me out of my spiraling, “And now we’re disturbing her- for a mere test.” I let the laughter bubble out of me popping off the stones around us. If only she knew what she was really after. The irony of it all. And Cassian, he had cornered me last night, after Feyre had retired upstairs, to give me a bollocking.  
“Cassian tried to convince me last night not to take you. I thought he might even punch me.”  
“Why?” Oh how I wanted to grab her and say because he’s my brother and you're my mate. He knows me so well, that he sees the changes in me, because of you. Because you’re my mate and even if it hasn’t been confirmed, he suspects it and he would do anything to protect you. Cassian, the man who commands my armies, would lay down his life to keep me from losing anyone else I love.  
But I couldn’t tell her that, “Who knows? With Cassian, he’s probably more interested in fucking you than protecting you.” Nothing could be further from the truth, but the love Feyre had for Tamlin still burned my throat preventing me from ever telling her of my feelings. It was easier to fabricate the attraction of another male to both disguise myself and test her.  
“You’re a pig,” she said, lifting her head up the sky and continuing on her descent, over gnarled tree roots and scattered rocks, to the Weaver.  
I lifted a branch for her to duck under as I thought about Feyres feelings for Tamlin. I wondered if she had considered moving on or if she was even there yet. “ You could you know. If you needed to move on in physical sense. I’m sure Cassian would be more than happy to oblige.” Of course as soon as I said it I knew how painful that would be for me. The thought brought bile burning up my throat into my mouth. I realised then I would probably fight my own brother if I ever thought he would lay a hand on Feyre. I blocked the image of the two of them together. Cassian wasn’t interested in Feyre, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested in him. My general had been known to turn a few heads over the centuries and never received any complaints afterwards.  
I waited to hear Feyres answer, testing her. “Then tell him to come to my room tonight.” There was enough of a hint of nerves and uncertainty across the bond for me to see the lie in her words. Either way Cassian would never hear of this conversation.  
“If you survive this test” I replied simply, trying to coax the conversation back to the difficult task she was about to take on and away from thoughts and images that made my heart hurt and my blood boil with jealousy.  
She paused, “You seem please by the idea that I won’t.”  
It always surprised me that she couldn’t you see through me, see the nature of my true feelings for her, that were only growing stronger with each passing day I spent with her. I decided to give her a watered down version and said, “ Quite the opposite, Feyre” as she came to stand before me. Her eyes shinning in the sunlight, rising to the challenge. My mind flickered back to image of Cassian and her entangled in sheets,my voice soured, “ I’ll let Cassian know you’re … open to his advances.” Yeah right. 

“Good” she replied much to my disgust. In the wake of the heated and exaggerated scene that was now running amok in my mind, I sent a small tendril of power to caress her body and stir her blood. I could feel her respond. The bond rushing through me and before I could stop myself, I caught her chin in my hand and turned her towards me. I was transported to this morning when I knelt before her, head inline with her core. All I had wanted was to shift my hand higher on her thigh and bury myself between her legs until all she could think about, smell and feel was me. My voice came out hoarse and heavy, “ Did you enjoy the sight of me kneeling before you?” I had detected a catch in her breath and a widening of her pupils that sent my male ego soaring and my blood plummeting straight to my cock. It twitched now as I waited for her to respond.  
I listened to her heart and rejoiced at the way I could make her feel. It didn’t last long, as even with her heart pounding in my ears, my own matching hers beat for beat, she gave me a cruel little smirk and pulled herself free from my grip on her chin. The loss of contact was unbearable. Such a small point of contact and yet it set my soul on fire. Imagining all the other ways I could touch her was too harsh a punishment as I reminded myself I could never have her. Everything we discussed here in the surrealness of this strange forest reinforced in my mind, that she didn’t want me that way. But I decided as I winnowed her that day into Velaris my home, I would take whatever she would give me.  
She jumped away and surprised me again with a line straight out of Mor’s mouth, “Isn’t that all you males are good for, anyway?”  
The rollarcoaster that was Feyre Archeron had me smiling at the idea that she was getting better, enough so she could tease and play with me. Feyre was flirting with me I realised with delight. At least with all the teasing and flirting her mind had steered clear of her thoughts of the upcoming task.  
As if she could read my mind, “Nice try,” she croaked out. I couldn’t distract her for long, I merely shrugged and sauntered towards the trees in a much more casual manner than my racing heart would suggest.  
For now, I would pretend it was all a distraction. I heard her stomping up behind me and stopped her with a hand just before a clearing with a small white cottage in the centre.  
My mother had told me stories of the Weaver. Ones to both, in the beginning, frighten me from travelling too far and later on, explain to me how to prepare a potential bride for collecting her entitlement. These later stories are what had brought myself a Feyre today. I thought of the small simply elegant ring my mother always wore on her middle finger, beside her wedding band, kept safe for someone worthy enough.  
The absence of sound is what is so startling about the Weavers cottage. All noise dies away at the edge of the clearing. Birds travel overhead soundlessly. It made Feyres breaths seem as loud as waves crashing on the tide.  
Feyre was ready. I wouldn’t have brought her here if she wasn’t the one, the one to collect on my promise to my mother. I bowed before her, a queen waiting to receive her crown. Tears filled my eyes as they shone with the love and sorrow I felt for my mother and the new-found love I had for this strong, beautiful woman standing in front me. Good luck was the best I could come up with as my palms heated and became clammy and my heart sped.  
My wonderful girl stuck her middle finger up to salute me before she slowly and carefully turned and faced the cottage. I watched her walk to the door and winnowed to a tree far enough away so the Weaver would not sense my power.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for sticking with it. Any errors or mistakes please let me know. I'm Irish so spelling differs from American versions and everything on my laptop comes up with a squiggle red line underneath it. I also think I made up some words :/  
> Anyway if you think I should continue writing some more please let me know.


End file.
